Regency Romance

Lord Cheverley, son of the Duke of Ithwick, never wanted to go to war, but when he eloped against his father’s wishes, the furious Duke forced him to choose—either take a naval commission, or have his marriage annulled. Devastated physically and emotionally by seven years of war, a shipwreck, and six years in the captivity of a brutal pirate, Cheverley returns to England to find that the courts have declared him dead, and his wife is entertaining suitors. Should he demand his rightful place, disrupting his family’s lives, or should he return to sea, seeking vengeance against the pirate? He sets out to find the answer in disguise.

Penelope once believed in love, but then the man who swept her off her feet deserted her, leaving her and her unborn child utterly alone. Now a widow, she will do anything to protect her son, including enlisting the aid of a mysterious sea captain to uncover the true intentions of her devious suitors. When the captain awakens something in Penelope she thought long dead, she begins to suspect he is no stranger. But, as they peel back the layers of a deadly plot, can this broken family heal their wounds in time to save what really matters?

“You even smell like him, not that I can remember what he smelled like because that would make me sound mad. But your scent makes me confused and hot and longing and I’m fairly certain his did as well, however that could have been the fact we were sixteen and sixteen is entirely too, oh, blast, I can’t, I tell you! I just cannot—”

“Shh,” he soothed. Tentatively, he rested his hand against the small of her back.

“No! Not shh! It’s terrible. A complete muddle.” She splayed her hands against his chest. “I’m still bold and you’re still impossibly hard but you aren’t a toff—and I’m me and you’re not you and I’m—well—I am going mad, aren’t I? That’s the only explanation.”

“Shh,” he repeated, crumbling inside.

“Stop shushing and just—” she grabbed his wounded arm and wrapped it around her waist. Then, she placed her hand on his nape, curled her cheek into his neck and sighed. “There. Now I will shush. This is right.”

This was anything but right. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“That helps,” she replied.

“Helps make you feel better?”

“No. It helps to make you, you, not him.” She sighed. “Chev never apologized, you see.”

His enemies called him the devil.
There were few people in the world the Duke of Rhuddlan could trust, least of all his scheming brother Nicholas. So when a spate of violence is perpetrated against people with a connection to the duke, Rhuddlan knows who is behind it. But how can he end this vicious campaign when Nick is backed by the King’s own son?

Hers call her a temptress.
Olivia Stone wants nothing more than to live quietly in her little cottage, but with a cruel suitor determined to possess her and an income that is steadily diminishing, she’s left with no choice but to appeal to her wealthy cousin–whom she’s never met–for assistance. Will he give it? Or will she be forced to marry a man she fears?

Can they see past the rumors to find true love?
When Rhuddlan knocks on Olivia’s door with a plan to help them both, she’s skeptical but sees no other option. Working together sparks a flame between them neither could have predicted, but when Nick discovers the relationship, he becomes determined to destroy their hope for happiness. Can Rhuddlan finally put an end to his brother’s devastation before someone is killed? Will Olivia still want him when she sees how ruthless he can be?

“You do have one option.”

Olivia straightened, keeping one hand on Artie’s furry head as she faced Mrs. D. “Teverton?”

Mrs. D. didn’t react to the name, but she didn’t have to. It was a discussion they’d had before. Lord Teverton was Olivia’s closest living relative and head of her family, but the only thing she knew about him was that he owned an estate near Liverpool.

“What if he turns me away?”

No one could legally force Olivia to marry Sir George, but if she went to Teverton for help and he refused, her only choice would be between George and slow starvation as the demand for her work continued to decline and her past slowly caught up with her.

“But what if he doesn’t?”

Olivia pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes. What if Teverton was an honorable man who promised to protect her? Did she even have paper to write him a letter and ask?“What about His Grace?” she said suddenly, dropping her hands to her sides. The breeze picked up, carrying with it the scent of the mint growing a few feet away.

Mrs. D. took a step back. “What about him?”

“Well…he’s here. Teverton is all the way in Liverpool. Or at a different estate completely. And the duke ought to be amenable to my situation—if I am hale and hearty, I can continue paying my rent every quarter.”

“Devil is right,” Mrs. D. said, her mouth pulling into a pucker as if she’d eaten something sour. “I know we helped him this afternoon, but that was basic decency. You know what they say about the man.”

Olivia did know. She’d borrowed a battered copy of a story called The Vampyre from a friend in the village the previous week, and had read it aloud to Mrs. D. and Mrs. H. after dinner one evening. They two older ladies had exchanged a knowing look, and it had taken some doing to get Mrs. Hatch to elaborate.

“The Duke of Rhuddlan,” she’d said with a shudder. “Some think he’s like that. A vampire.”

She’d refused to speak of it further, and Olivia had let it drop. But she’d made an inquiry or two when she returned the book a few days later, and Mrs. Hatch wasn’t the only person who thought there was something unholy about His Grace.

Get a copy of The Duke of Darkness from your favorite online vendor at:

A graduate of the University of Michigan with a major in history, Cora is the 2014 winner of the Royal Ascot contest for best unpublished Regency romance. She went on a twelve year expedition through the blackboard jungle as a high school math teacher before publishing Save the Last Dance for Me, the first book in the Maitland Maidens series.

When she’s not walking Rotten Row at the fashionable hour or attending the entertainments of the Season, you might find her participating in Historical Novel Society and Romance Writers of America events, wading through her towering TBR pile, or eagerly awaiting the next Marvel movie release.

This week’s release in the A Legend to Love series is A Gift From a Goddess by Maggi Andersen. Her story is a Regency romantic suspense based on the Myth of Pygmalion and Galatea.

Pygmalion was a Greek sculptor from Cyprus who, disenchanted with women, dedicated himself to his work. He created Galatea, a beautiful statue of a woman, from ivory. As Pygmalion worked on the statue, it became more beautiful to him than any woman that had ever lived or been carved in stone. As he worked with hammer and chisel, he fell deeply in love with his statue. The goddess, Aphrodite, had given life to the statue; whose name was Galatea.

Hebe Fenchurch’s life has been turned upside down after her father became involved in a swindle and killed himself. Shunned by the ton and with her mother struggling to make ends meet, Hebe is forced to seek employment. Told she is unsuited for a governess and lacks the skills of a maid, Hebe finds work as an artist’s model.

Sculptor, Lewis, Lord Chesterton has shut himself away, working on his sculptures after his wife, Laura, left him and was subsequently murdered. Some in Society believe he was behind her death. When Lewis begins a new work titled Aphrodite, Hebe Fenchurch comes to pose for him.

Lewis prides himself on his professionalism. He never sleeps with his models although many in the ton believe he does. He finds himself drawn to Hebe, his work stalls, and he fears he won’t finish the statue of Aphrodite. Must he dismiss Hebe and lose his best model?

After another of Lewis’ models suffers the same fate as his wife Laura, the mystery intensifies and gossip spreads. Hebe is drawn into the fray.

Bow Street have had no success in finding the murderer. Will they strike again?

As Hebe sits for him, Lewis’ employs his skill as a sculptor to fashion the beautiful goddess from a block of marble. It is said that Aphrodite stands for love, beauty, pleasure, and procreation, and she can even mend a broken heart.

Can the goddess’ power be real?

And will Lewis be able to keep the model he’s fallen in love with from suffering the same fate as the others?

Grab your copy of A Gift From A Goddess today!

Multi-published, Amazon best-selling author in Regency and Suspense, Maggi Andersen, fell in love with the Georgian and Regency worlds after reading the books of Georgette Heyer and Victoria Holt. Maggi has raised three children and gained a BA and an MA in Creative Writing. She and her husband live in the beautiful Southern Highlands of Australia.

P.L. Travers lived in the house next door almost 100 years ago. Travers later wrote Mary Poppins and there’s a statue in her honor in the park.

Maggi’s free time is spent enjoying her garden and the local wildlife, reading, and movies. She keeps fit walking and swimming.

Apart from her Regency Series, The Baxendale Sisters and The Spies of Mayfair, and her stand alone historical novels, Maggi writes contemporary romantic suspense, mysteries and young adult novels. She supports the RSPCA.

Many have worn the clothes — and attempted the accent — of Robin of Locksley. The wilds of Sherwood Forest have seen many incarnations of the famous hero. But what of a heroine?

In author Susan Gee Heino’s version of the Robin Hood legend, her hero is a very reluctant rogue. He thinks Robin Hood is nothing more than a silly legend — until he finds himself hiding in Sherwood Forest and fighting against the Sheriff of Nottingham! And his childhood nemesis — Marianne Maidland — turns out to be even more of a rogue than Robin Hood.

1815, Nottinghamshire, England

Mr. Robert Locksley is not the great-great-grandson of the infamous Robin Hood. He just happens to share the same name. And an estate in Nottingham. And the shame of an addled grandfather who liked to don green hosen and rob from their neighbors. The legend is nothing more than a source of embarrassment for Robert and now that he’s come back from the horrors of war, he wants nothing to do with violence or suffering or Robin Hood again. It comes as quite a shock, then, when he discovers his peaceful home is in chaos and he is presumed dead! There’s a new sheriff in town and nothing in Nottingham is as it should be. There’s only one thing to do—bring Robin Hood back to life.

Marianne Maidland never quite outgrew her fascination with Robin Hood. She used to romp through Sherwood Forest and dream of adventure. Returning to Nottingham as a cultured lady, she is sad to hear that Robert Locksley is dead and his beautiful estate is falling to ruin. But the good people of Nottingham are suffering, and she isn’t sure why. She knows what they need, though; they need Robin Hood! If Robert isn’t here to fill that role, then she will have to. How handy that she’s an excellent archer and has just found Grandfather’s old Robin Hood costume.

Sparks fly—along with arrows!—when these pretenders collide. Would there be a happy ending for two daring rogues in the forest? Sure would!

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Susan Gee Heino is living out her own Happily-Ever-After in rural Ohio with an ever-changing menagerie of creatures, her very supportive husband, and the two most adorable — and frighteningly creative — children imaginable.They are all addicted to happy endings, and that seems to be working out just fine.

Time to toot my own horn: A Wulf in Duke’s Clothing goes live this week!

I chose the epic of Beowfulf – the tale of the hero of the Geats who came to the aid of Hrothgar, King of the Danes, whose great hall was plagued repeatedly by the monster Grendel. To adapt the story to Regency England, I created and an Earl named Grenfell, and had him plague a a family named Rothgard. Beowulf became the Duke of Conall, which means ‘wolf’ in Gaelic, as his family seat is near the Scottish border. This allowed me a bit of a double-play on words, tying in the old Beowulf to the new Wulf.

Here’s the blurb and a sneak peek!

The Earldom of Rothgard has a long and storied history of strength, wealth, and integrity. But the death of the current matriarch hits everyone hard – most especially the Earl – and he tumbles into a mourning so intense his life becomes lost in a shroud of grief. His eldest daughter, Lady Isobel, steps up to lead the family so her brother can continue at university while her younger sisters experience a childhood of some normalcy.

Finding weaknesses in all Lady Isobel does to protect her family, an unseen enemy seizes an opportunity to launch financial and personal attacks. When treading water in the mess yields not success but rather an overwhelming sense of imminent drowning, she is forced to seek aid from her father’s well-connected friends—the fate of her family depends upon it.

Help arrives in the form of an arrogant, handsome gentleman seemingly suited more for the ballroom than the battlefield. The Duke of Conall, the ‘Wulf of the North,’ is an enigma in bespoke boots and tailored jackets. Yet behind the facade of cultivated ennui and charm beats the heart of a warrior—one who quickly recognizes the enemy tormenting the Rothgard family.

The Duke comes prepared to fight…but did he also come prepared for love?

The pause before the ‘sir’ was deliberate, just short enough to seem polite, but long enough to broadcast the insult. He would have chuckled had he not sensed the sincerity behind the words. His eyes scanned the entrance to the imposing estate, but the clear day and size of the area caused the voice to seemingly come from everywhere and nowhere at the same time. He must have hesitated too long himself as further instructions rang out.

“I had not planned to practice sighting my guns today, but as you are obligingly ignoring my directives, I will take advantage of the opportunity. I should warn you that I am a crack shot and your immobility all but guarantees my aim shall fall true. I have only to decide which part of you needs a ball in it most.”

The owner of the voice remained unseen, but the ominous cocking of a pistol drew his attention to the massive planter on the right side of the landing between the flights of stairs. No shrinking violet, this one, he thought. She had not been hiding, merely tactically placing herself near cover should it be necessary. The lady stood taller than most, had striking dark hair and eyes, and wore a topaz morning dress not in the first stare of fashion, but of high-quality material and extremely well-made. Her found himself taking notice of her skirts and the wisps of hair about her face, gently rippling in the light breeze. She raised one pistol, aiming it dead center at his chest, and returned his attention to where it belonged.

Clearing his throat, the action as foreign to him as the sudden attraction he felt toward this stranger threatening his life, he began his mea culpa.

“My Lady, I believe I should introduce myself before we have cause to regret your actions.” Despite not knowing her identity, he still sensed he spoke to someone of import.

“Save your speech to occupy your thoughts on your journey back down my lane. The only introduction you need concern yourself with is this ball greeting your torso.” An impish smile spread across her face as she raised one brow as if in a cocky salute. “And I assure you, I shall feel no regrets in the matter.”

And with those saucy words and braggadocio, the famously aloof and impassive Duke of Conall thought he might be in love.

Grab your copy of A Wulf in Duke’s Clothing at all online vendors today!

Author Renée Reynolds grew up all over the world in a family whose motto is you can never learn too much, travel too much, or talk too much. She owns an impressive stack of degrees that she ignores to instead write about what she cannot do: go back in time to dance at balls and flirt with lords and scoundrels.

Renée found her happily ever after in Texas, where she resides with her family and a menagerie of pets. They’ve added to the family motto: you can never read too much, too often, or too late at night.

The wonderful Louisa Cornell’s novel, Between Duty and the Devil’s Desires, is based on the legend of Tristan and Iseult. Those who know the legend usually associate it with Wagner’s opera, but the legend is not a German story. The heartbreaking tale made popular in the 12th century was derived from a Celtic legend. There is even a Drustanus Stone in Cornwall with an engraving referring to Drustan, the archetype for Tristan. The story appears in the Welsh triads and in the Mabinogion—11th century compendiums of early Welsh legends and poetry. It is believed the fatal love triangle between King Arthur, Queen Guinevere, and Sir Lancelot is based on these legends.

THE LEGEND

After defeating the Irish knight Morholt, Tristan travels to Ireland to bring back the fair Iseult for his uncle, King Mark of Cornwall, to marry. Along the way, Tristan and Iseult accidentally ingest a love potion and fall in love with each other. (In some versions no love potion is needed, they simply fall in love.) Upon arrival at his uncle’s castle, Tristan is honor-bound to leave his beloved Iseult so she may marry the king. In some versions, King Mark discovers their betrayal and, in a violent rage, mortally wounds Tristan. In other versions, Tristan sails away and eventually marries another woman, even as he continues to love Iseult. Whilst saving a young damsel from six knights, Tristan is struck with a poison lance. He asks his squire to send for Iseult, who is known far and wide for her healing powers. He tells the squire to sail back flying white sails if Iseult has agreed to come to his aid, but to fly black sails should she refuse. As Tristan lays dying, his jealous wife tells him the sails on the horizon are black. Heartbroken, Tristan dies. When Iseult arrives and finds him dead, she drinks poison to join him in eternity.

Louisa flips her story a bit. Here’s the blurb and a tease of an excerpt.

A determined governess, a reluctant bridegroom, and a winter’s journey from London to Cheshire…

Reputed to be the most exacting governess in England, Miss Elegy Perkins has cared for Lady Margaret, the spoiled daughter of the Marquess of Braemar, for twelve interminable years. Then she receives a life-changing offer that would bring her a prize of 5000 pounds and the chance at financial freedom. All she must do is find and escort Lady Margaret’s reluctant bridegroom to his wedding. A simple enough task, until she meets the bridegroom in question.

Major Lord Devlin St. George has very little control of his life. For the past sixteen months he has done his utmost to avoid contracts, signed when he was a child, to leg-shackle him to the daughter of a wealthy marquess. Evading the efforts of his betrothed’s brothers to drag him to the altar, Devlin has successfully missed three wedding dates so far. The only thing that stands between him and missing a fourth is a pistol-wielding, strait-laced governess. A lady who is far more woman than she dares reveal.

Hair black and silky as a starless night hung well past his shoulders. With an equally dark beard and mustache and eyes the clear blue of sapphires, even if a bit blurred and bloodshot, Lord Hadley resembled nothing so much as a pirate or, if she were kinder, the subject of a Renaissance painting. Elegy drew herself up and squared her shoulders. She had no time for silly feminine frailty. Especially not where this man was concerned. She had a task to perform.

“I find I hear better when wearing drawers,” the gentleman said with a sly grin. He leaned back onto the bed and propped himself on his elbows. “If you’re not wearing any perhaps you should borrow mine.”

“Borrow… What on earth are you— I most certainly do not wear drawers.” What had possibly possessed her to give him that piece of information?

“Ah! Well then feel free to don mine if it will help you to hear and answer my question.”

“Don yours? Lord Hadley, I assure you, I have no interest in your drawers or your questions,” Elegy declared. Earl or not, the man was the outside of enough.

“Then why are you clutching them to your bosom like a spinster’s last prayers?”

She glanced down at the item in her hands. And promptly tossed it towards the bed, where it landed on the threadbare rug at his feet.

Nab your copy of Between Duty and the Devil’s Desires today!

Louisa Cornell is a retired opera singer who lives in the wilds of LA (Lower Alabama). She shares her home with a chihuahua so disagreeable he has been banned from vet clinics in two counties. She also has a cat who thinks she is a Great Dane, who terminates vermin with extreme prejudice, in addition to several very nice relatively normal dogs.

When she is not lounging about living the high life of an author, she can found at these places on the web:

Releasing tomorrow, 16, October, is Her Wild Irish Rogue by Saralee Etter. It’s a retelling of the legend of Cuchulainn and Emer of Irish mythology.

Cuchulainn (pronounced “Cook-Hullen”) is the mighty warrior hero of the Ulster Cycle, an amazingly good-looking young lad who defeated entire armies with his wild berserker rages. He fell in love with the beautiful daughter of Forgall the Wily, Princess Emer, who declared she wouldn’t have him until he completed a series of heroic tasks. When he returned to claim Emer’s hand, her father forbade it. In the end, Forgall was defeated by his own trickery and the two lovers were united.

According to the legend, the Princess Emer had the six womanly gifts: beauty, a good voice, sweet speech, needlework, wisdom, and chastity. She was intelligent and lively, with great dignity—our hero had to work hard to deserve her!

The hero of Her Wild Irish Rogue, Captain Stephen Killian, is based on the legendary Irish hero, Cuchulainn. He is a mighty warrior, and so young and handsome that his friends all beg him to get married so their own girlfriends and wives will stop sighing over him!

Loving a warrior is dangerous business. Trusting a spy is foolish.

The Napoleonic Wars are over. To continue serving his country, war hero Captain Stephen Killian is determined to learn the subtle tradecraft of a spy. He never knew attending glittering balls and masquerades would be such a dangerous pursuit.

Miss Emma Forgall is a spy whose grace and charm wins her the confidence of the rulers and diplomats who have gathered to carve up Napoleon’s former empire. But now she’s working with a hot-headed former cavalry officer who starts a sword-fight at the opera!

When a plot to derail the Alliance that defeated Napoleon threatens to re-ignite the turmoil of war, can Killian and Emma join forces to catch the culprits?

Miss Emma Forgall waved her fan lazily. “Where in Ireland are you from?”

“I’m from Macha’s Brooch,” Captain Killian replied, hands clasped behind his back and feet set sturdily apart. Somewhere in the back of the elegant Parisian ballroom, the orchestra struck up a tune.

Lord Parkington snorted. “Impossible. Macha’s Brooch isn’t a place.”

It’s a riddle, you fool, Emma wanted to say. Why wouldn’t Lord Parkington go away? Just because Emma’s father approved of him, that didn’t give him permission to act like he was her keeper.

She ignored him and thought about the riddle. In Celtic legend, the goddess Macha used the point of her brooch-pin to scratch the boundaries of the city of Ulster into the ground and made her vanquished enemies dig its fortifications for her.

Macha’s Brooch meant Ulster.

“Ulster is a great distance from Paris,” Emma remarked casually, watching Captain Killian’s face for signs that she’d gotten it right. “Where did you stop along the way, when you traveled here?”

He shrugged his wide shoulders. “We stopped in the home of the man who herds the cattle on the plain of Tethra.”

“The what?” demanded Lord Parkington, who still hadn’t gone away. The man simply never could take a hint. “What are you talking about?”

Another riddle. She was beginning to enjoy herself. Good thing she knew her myths – Tethra was an ancient guardian deity ruling over the waters, and the “plain of Tethra” was the sea. Therefore, the cattle of the sea were…fish. Captain Killian had stayed at the home of a fisherman.

“So your host was a fisherman,” she said coolly. “No doubt you had excellent fish for dinner?”

He grinned at her. “Most excellent fish.”

Right, again! Emma’s heart gave a little hop of excitement. She smiled back at him and asked, “And where did your travels take you then?”

“Simple enough,” replied Captain Killian. “We went over the Great Secret of the men of Dea, down the Great Crime, across to the Land of the Red Dragon, to the Ford of Oxen, and then to Caer-Lud. Then on to Lutetia.”

Emma waved a dismissive hand. She knew her Celtic mythology and her ancient Roman history. Besides, it was worth it just to see Lord Parkington’s purple-faced frustration.

“So, down the Boyne, over the River Delvin, across the sea to Wales, and then through Oxford to London. And here you are in Lutetia—or, as we call it, Paris.”

“Exactly.” Captain Killian nodded. “Now tell me about yourself.”

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Saralee Etter always knew that writing was the only career for her. Writing down the stories she imagined in her day-dreaming moments seemed like the perfect job.

Instead, she wrote other things: Newspaper articles, public relations releases, legal briefs. After working as a legislative analyst for a state-wide trade association, she worked as a local weekly newspaper reporter and a public school district communications coordinator.

Now Saralee is writing the stories that she dreamed up so long ago. She enjoys history, romance, adventure, and mystery. She has published a full-length traditional English Regency romance novel and two Regency-set Christmas romance novellas.

She is working on a Victorian-set cozy mystery featuring Gilbert and Sullivan.